


Time of Death

by orphan_account



Series: Paradise [1]
Category: Discovery Channel RPF, Fight Quest RPF, Mixed Martial Arts RPF
Genre: Afterlife, Brazilian Ju-Jitsu, F/M, Fighting Kink, Grappling, M/M, Oil, Paradise, Pedagogy, Sweat, Wrestling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-07
Updated: 2014-11-07
Packaged: 2018-02-24 12:32:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2581577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a series of tales about the warriors whose paradise is to battle for all eternity, and the souls whose paradise is to train and care for them.</p><p>I've been having a lot of thoughts about 4th wall integrity in such a tiny fandom, so I must say:  <b>If you are Jimmy Smith, Doug Anderson, a relative, colleague, or acquaintance of these men, hit your back button now. Everything is 100% fiction, written with love, but <i>you will not like what you see.</i></b></p>
            </blockquote>





	Time of Death

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theleaveswant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theleaveswant/gifts).



> I don't have an overarching plot for this story. Whenever I feel inspired I will add to it.

At first, only darkness, and pain, and fear, and cold. And then Jimmy feels the solidness of the ground manifest below him. Well, not exactly solid. The ground has give. He feels an inexplicable desire to stay on the ground and roll on it. He can't recall why. 

He spreads his broad back over the surface, trying to grasp a solid memory, but all he can feel is that he likes being where he is. The aggressive smell of sweat permeates the air and he knows he likes that, too. He listens to the sounds around him. There are thuds - loud ones. There are oddly familiar screams, punctuated by intermittent slapping sounds.

_Tap or snap, Jimmy. Never let him crank it too far._

A flood of recognition fills Jimmy and he finally opens his eyes. The sun in his eyes feels familiar, was familiar even when he felt it on his skin. His junk feels weird and he realizes he's wearing a cup, which bodes either very well, or very badly. A quick perusal of his own body shows he is clad in comfortable athletic attire: form fitting athletic shirt; abnormally comfortable shoes; shorts down past his knees, right where he likes them.

No sooner has he sit up than a sweaty, heaving young man approaches him.

"You're the new guy!"

Jimmy blinks, then remembers his inherently intimidating appearance and smiles non-threateningly at the man.

"Looks like?"

The young man is dressed similarly to Jimmy, with significantly shorter shorts. The well-developed chest has the word "Paradise" written across it. The man's eyes light up and he cups his hands around his mouth. "YO, GUYS, JIMMY SMITH IS HERE!" He turns back to a bemused Jimmy. "It is such an honour to meet you, man. I need all the help I can get." 

As perplexed as Jimmy is, he knows, somehow, that this place is _right_. "Help... with...?"

"I need a ton of help with my hip movement."

The man kneels next to Jimmy on what he now realizes is a mat.

"I need help figuring out how to escape the Kimura before my fight."


End file.
